


All we need is somebody to lean on

by alexanger



Series: Bold and young [2]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Begging, Consensual, Continued consent, Double Anal Penetration, M/M, Paddling, Painplay, Sounding, hatefucking, mild restraints
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-30
Updated: 2016-08-30
Packaged: 2018-08-11 23:09:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,938
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7911199
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alexanger/pseuds/alexanger
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jefferson uses Hamilton hard; he knows he can take it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All we need is somebody to lean on

Jefferson slams Hamilton onto the bed. His lips seek the tender points he knows far too well - Hamilton’s jugular notch, just over his nipples, right under his navel, the juncture between thigh and hip - and suck livid bruises into them. Hamilton moans, wanton, his body loose and pliant, twitching a little when Jefferson bites hard at the inside of his right thigh.

“Fuck,” he hisses, and Jefferson growls, digging his teeth in harder. He can see Hamilton getting hard from here - it’s a new angle, he doesn’t usually deign to put his mouth on Hamilton - and each pulse, each throb, is intriguing and intoxicating in a way he’s never examined before.

There’s that wonder again, that intrusion of _why am I fucking Hamilton?_ but he can’t deny that this is doing something amazing for him. He’s hard before he even realizes it, hanging heavy, the all-too-familiar ache somewhere deep inside beating in time with his heart. He marks Hamilton like splattering paint, constellations of bruises across scarred skin.

There’s a sharp ache in his jaw as he pulls away from the tender skin of Hamilton’s thigh. A bruise is rising under the skin and Jefferson licks it, a rare show of gentleness. Hamilton’s fingers tangle in his hair.

“You’re being nicer than I’m used to,” he whispers.

In retaliation, Jefferson lunges and sinks his teeth into the fresh bruise, hard enough that Hamilton gasps and jerks. The bite seems deep enough to silence him, at least long enough for Jefferson to strap his ankles to a spreader bar and push his knees against his chest.

“I’m going to fuck you,” Jefferson says. “Before I do, I’m going to stretch you, and it’s going to hurt.”

“Prove it,” Hamilton says, so Jefferson straps his wrists to the bar too, and just like that he’s powerless. He struggles a little, pulling back against the bar; the tension shudders through his spine, but the look on his face betrays his delight.

“Too tight?”

“Perfect,” Hamilton says.

Jefferson digs out lube and a plug. He slicks his fingers and teases Hamilton’s ass, grinning at the way his body is spread out on display. “Shit, I can see everything from this angle,” he says, twisting one fingertip into the tight ring.

“You’d think you’d take more advantage of it -”

“Shut up,” Jefferson says, but it’s soft - a warning tap, not a blow. “You’d better not be asking me for anything.”

“I wouldn’t have to ask if you’d just hurry up and _give_ it to me.”

Jefferson retaliates by thrusting three fingers in as deep as he can get. He can feel Hamilton’s ass squeezing hard, pushing back, but he twists deeper and arcs his fingers up against his prostate. The pull between pain and ecstasy makes Hamilton whine and grind his hips back, and Jefferson pulls out long enough to add a fourth finger.

“God, fuck,” Hamilton breathes.

“No, not God, Jefferson is fine,” Jefferson says. He scissors his fingers, pulling him open, pushing him hard. Hamilton rolls his eyes but the fingers in his ass make him shiver and tense against the bar. His ankles roll and his fingers clench on nothing, and a dribble of precome rolls from the tip of his cock to pool on his stomach.

“Come on,” Hamilton says. Maybe it was supposed to sound flippant, but it’s too breathy to land that way; his eyes are huge and dark, fixed on Jefferson’s face like it’s a lifeline.

Jefferson rips his fingers out and Hamilton makes a disappointed noise at the sudden emptiness. It segues into a moan as Jefferson presses the tip of the plug against his ass. It’s monstrous, a huge flare that explodes from the thin tip, and by the time he’s sunk it in a couple inches it’s wide enough that Hamilton is pulling away and hissing with pain.

“Too big?” Jefferson asks.

“Yes,” Hamilton says. “Push.”

He shoves forward and it sinks deeper, and Hamilton throws his head back and snarls. His breathing is ragged and his whole body tenses as the plug stretches him open.

“You can take this,” Jefferson says. “Don’t act like this is even that bad. Are you gonna wuss out on me?”

Hamilton grinds his hips back against the plug as hard as the spreader bar will allow. “Just put it in,” he says, teeth bared with the pain.

Jefferson shoves forward hard and the plug slides into place, locking inside him. The force of the plug popping through makes Hamilton yelp and jerk away, his hips bucking uselessly.

“Do you need it out?”

“Shut the fuck up, just give me a second -”

So Jefferson wraps his hand around Hamilton’s cock and gives it a couple pumps, just enough to help him adjust to the massive toy stretching him open, and pre drools from the tip in an obscene cascade. Dragging a thumb through the worst of the mess, Jefferson says, “open up.”

Hamilton, surprisingly, complies, and Jefferson slides his thumb into the open mouth. Seeing Hamilton taste himself sends a shock of sensation straight to his cock, so he wipes the pre on Hamilton’s tongue and then drags his thumb over the tip of his cock again. He feeds Hamilton his own pre this way, as much of it as he can, and then he straddles Hamilton’s chest and slides his cock into the mouth that, for once, is silent.

“How do you taste, mutt?” he asks, fisting a hand in Hamilton’s hair. “You just need to taste cock, don’t you? You don’t care whose cock it is, you just need it, you’re so fucking desperate for it. I’m gonna come in your mouth, and then I’m gonna spread that ass even wider, and I’m gonna get my cock in there too, and you’re gonna make me come again.”

Hamilton doesn’t answer, focusing instead on sucking Jefferson’s cock, so he pushes, “do you understand?”

“Mmm,” Hamilton hums.

“Good. You’d better work hard, because you don’t get to come at all until you get me off twice. And if you don’t swallow, I’m going to beat the shit out of you. If you waste any, I’m gonna beat the shit out of you. You’d better treat my cock, and everything that comes out of it, with respect.”

Hamilton hums again and Jefferson fucks his mouth eagerly. He knows that this position is uncomfortable for Hamilton - his knees are digging into Jefferson’s back, arms trapped against his chest, and each thrust jostles them out of place enough to provoke a grunt or a groan. As he fucks Hamilton’s mouth savagely, he can hear the groans amping up and intensifying; soon Hamilton is all but sobbing, fighting to maintain his position through the cramping in his thighs and hips.

“Does that hurt?” Jefferson asks, and the second Hamilton nods, he adds, “no, it doesn’t, you’re just a fucking wimp. It doesn’t hurt yet. But if you can’t keep it together long enough to get me off, I’m going to _make_ it hurt.”

Hamilton moans, desperate, wanton, and bucks his hips, and Jefferson fucks his face viciously. He keeps an eye on Hamilton’s face, watching for any sign of real distress, listening for any noises that sound off or wrong - but Hamilton is in his element, sucking like the only thing in the world he wants is Jefferson’s load slipping down his throat. He’s not half bad as a cocksucker, either; his mouth is wet and hot and the suction is perfect, and when Jefferson pulls out far enough, Hamilton looks up from beneath his lashes and tongues the slit and _moans_ like a perfect, obedient toy. Jefferson’s orgasm starts as thunder deep inside him, and as Hamilton sucks him, it sparks through his body, crackling white-hot, and then Jefferson breathes, “mouth open,” and he jacks himself desperately. The head of his cock is in Hamilton’s mouth, and suddenly his orgasm hits and he sees the streaks of semen hitting Hamilton’s tongue and pooling there. He hears a moan, deep and gravelly; he's surprised to realize that it’s coming from him.

“Show me,” he pants, and Hamilton wipes the tip of Jefferson’s cock with his tongue and obligingly opens his mouth as wide as it will go to show off the load on his tongue. He’s salivating visibly; Jefferson knows he must be desperate to swallow, but he draws the moment out until Hamilton is near tears with the strain of holding his jaw in position, and then says, “alright, swallow.”

Hamilton makes a huge show of it. He closes his mouth, licks his lips - and just a little drips out and down his chin, a tiny trail that disappears into his beard - and swallows, and then opens again to show that it’s all gone.

“How was it?” Jefferson asks.

“You taste good,” is Hamilton’s response.

“And what did I tell you? What were my instructions?”

“To swallow,” Hamilton says.

“And?” Jefferson presses.

“And -” Hamilton suddenly looks stricken. “Not to waste any -”

“And I _saw_ you waste some. So what should I do to you?”

Hamilton whimpers a little and Jefferson fists a hand in his hair and yanks hard. “Anything you want, sir,” Hamilton breathes, and then he’s writhing under Jefferson and begging. “Do anything you like to me, fuck, I don’t care, Jefferson, just use me, use me hard. Please -”

Jefferson climbs off and shoves Hamilton hard, rolling him onto his side. “On your knees,” he says, and Hamilton manages to wriggle until he’s on his knees and his face is pressed down against the bed. His ass is up, clenching and relaxing around the plug; Jefferson can see it moving, see Hamilton’s cock twitching with his pulse, and he decides it’s time to stop being nice.

His collection of paddles is absolutely ludicrous. He favours leather, rather than wood; he likes the weight and wield and the sound it makes when it hits Hamilton’s skin. There’s a satisfying smack that resounds at each blow.

The studded paddle doesn’t smack so much as thud.

Jefferson wants to hear the thud.

It only takes a moment to get the paddle but Hamilton complains the whole time in a nasal whine, begging and pleading for contact. The whining starts desperate and swells to delirious, a constant stream of, “please, sir, please, please fuck me, please do something to me, just touch me, I don’t care where, please, fuck _please_ please please -”

Jefferson puts the paddle flat against the length of Hamilton’s cock and the cold metal of the studs makes him hiss and jerk. “You have two choices,” Jefferson says, his voice hard and gravelly. “You can take the studs and let me fuck your ass, and I’ll stuff that cock and let you come. Or you can take the smooth side, and I’ll blindfold you while I fuck you and I won’t get you off. What do you want?”

Hamilton doesn’t hesitate for a second. “Fuck me up. I want the studs.”

“Shit, you _are_ good for something.” Jefferson winds up and hits him, medium-hard, not the full lash he wanted to start with, but the studs connect and red blossoms under the skin and Hamilton chokes out a moan, his body tense and shaking. Reaching out to run a thumb over Hamilton’s ass, he can feel heat where the studs struck as the blood rises to the surface.

He pulls his hand away and lands another blow, harder than the first; Hamilton makes a laboured grunting noise and curves his back. He’s shivering, trying not to sob, and Jefferson makes his voice saccharine sweet and asks, “aww, are you having trouble taking this? I thought you wanted me to use you, Hamilton. Can you handle what I’m doing?”

“I can barely feel it,” Hamilton spits, and Jefferson swings with his whole arm and lands a blow so hard that Hamilton yelps and bursts into furious sobs. “Please,” he says. “Please - two more, please, Jefferson, just two more, I need to make it to five.”

“Don’t push yourself too hard.” Jefferson says this softly, sincerely. “If you need to stop there’s no shame in that. Are you sure you can take two more?”

“I can take it,” Hamilton says, his guards down, his voice calm.

“Promise?”

“Promise. If I need to safeword I will.”

“Okay.” Jefferson pets him soothingly, rubbing the palm of his hand over the sore spot on Hamilton’s ass, and then winds up and smacks again. Hamilton whimpers, but holds out; and then Jefferson lands the final blow, and Hamilton makes a choked, broken noise and shudders along the length of his spine, and Jefferson whispers, “lay on your side.”

He collapses and makes a grateful sound deep in his throat. Jefferson soothes him, running the palm of one hand along in side in long, fluid strokes. He can afford to be patient; Hamilton isn’t going anywhere.

After what feels like forever, Hamilton takes a deep breath and says, “okay. Stretch me.”

So Jefferson rolls him onto his back again and uncuffs him from the bar. Hamilton stretches his limbs, basking in his newfound freedom before Jefferson lubes a finger up and shoves it roughly into his overstretched asshole. It barely fits, but he manages to work Hamilton loose enough to fit a second finger.

“I don’t think I’m gonna fit in here,” he says, twisting his fingers and tugging at the raw ring of Hamilton’s ass.

“Wow, I can’t believe you’re a quitter,” Hamilton says through gritted teeth, so of course Jefferson has to jam a third finger in too. He scissors his fingers, stretching Ham as wide as he can, and when Hamilton groans and starts bucking his hips back against the stretch, Jefferson pulls out and reaches into the nightstand drawer for a little black case and a syringe full of lube.

“How much do you think you can take today?” he asks, unzipping the case and examining the slim metal rods inside. “Do I need to start you small?”

“No, just give me something big,” Hamilton says.

“You really _are_ the perfect slut, aren’t you?” Jefferson asks, and Hamilton seems torn between pride and shame at the words. He glows, either way. He glows as Jefferson selects one of the rods, not quite the biggest but getting up that way, and then slides the nozzle of the syringe into Hamilton’s cock slit and presses the plunger. The feeling of his cock being filled with lube is entirely unlike anything else; it’s cold on the way in, and there’s a moment of discomfort, but then the sound is pressing into his urethra and sinking in deep and all he can do is moan. He can feel it stretching him, pulling him open; Jefferson’s hand is wrapped around his cock and there’s that pressure outside and the pressure inside, and they meet and push against each other, and before he knows it he’s right at the edge.

“I wanna come,” he says, so Jefferson pushes the plug down, which makes his asshole gape just enough for the head of that thick cock to slip in. It’s tight, almost unbearably so; Jefferson is gritting his teeth against it, but he manages to fit in and thrust a few times. With how big the plug is, every single drag rubs right against Hamilton’s prostate, and before he knows it semen is leaking out around the sound. He hasn’t come, not yet - but each thrust forces it out of him in a thick dribble.

“Jefferson, I need to come,” Hamilton huffs.

“No,” Jefferson tells him.

So he holds on, every single muscle in his body straining to hold it back, and Jefferson ruts fast and hard. The plug is jerking in his body, the grind of flesh on silicone inside him is agonizingly perfect, and then Jefferson bares his teeth in a predatory snarl and shudders, and something hot and wet moves inside him.

“Please,” Hamilton breathes, and Jefferson slowly pulls the sound out - and that’s all it takes, just that drag inside his cock, and he comes hard, though there’s barely any semen; it’s all on his stomach already from where it was forced out of him with the strength of Jefferson’s fucking. He breathes raggedly as his orgasm rips through him, and then Jefferson pulls out and they’re kissing hard, desperate, clinging to each other.

“You’re so good, so good,” Jefferson whispers fiercely against his lips, “you were so good for me, Hamilton, you did so good. I’m so proud of you, look how much you took for me, Alex, my beautiful boy, you’re so good -”

“Fuck,” Hamilton sobs, “fuck, just - please take it out and then just -”

Jefferson reaches down and eases the plug out, tosses it carelessly on the floor, and then curls around Hamilton, rubbing his back and kissing his face.

Their breathing slows and they melt together, Hamilton’s face buried against Jefferson’s neck. Every so often he stirs enough to kiss him lazily, but for the most part they’re quiet and still. It’s a long time before Jefferson sighs and pulls away.

“It feels - weird saying anything else,” he starts, “but -”

“Yeah,” Hamilton says.

“We’ve been saying it so long and I feel like I need to -”

“I know.”

“But it’s more than that, you know?”

“Of course it is, you fucking walnut,” Hamilton says. “Did you just realize that?”

Just like that, Jefferson is back to his prickly self, all his softness gone. “I fucking hate you,” he spits.

Hamilton just smiles, content in the knowledge that all is right with the world. “I know,” he says. “I hate you too.”

**Author's Note:**

> god damn this is wild. also fun fact im p sure this is the first sounding fic in the hamilton tag EYYY.
> 
> comments and kudos fuel more sin. chat to me at [alexangery.tumblr.com](http://alexangery.tumblr.com)


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